The Deep's Retaliation

Gurez scrambled even to maintain his balance. The falling debris, the collapsing walls, everything.

His entire body was shaking, as if, it was very close to death. 'I hope...I hope I don't die! I...I want to live."

As he continued, he heard the screams of Deep Ones spiraling around his ears, entering his thought process. His stress built to an unimaginable level. 

Gurez didn't care about them anymore, he needed to live! No matter what, he'll live, and keep the mining association unharmed. 

Then, he saw the Deep Warriors, who guided the last survivors into some sort of gate, with vines coming from it, and warriors standing outside, which would act as their evacuation center, and therefore, their last stand.

This was Gurez's last chance of survival. He, no matter what, needed to get there as soon as possible, even if it cost him his limbs.

"Wait...wait for me! Warriors of the Deep, I need you—" He gasped, his legs burning, "I need your help!"

Suddenly, a whirlwind, with powerful force, disrupted Gurez's balance, resulting in him falling onto the ground. 

His eyes started to twitch from the bright light, which was followed by an erupting sound that pierced right through his eardrums, into his brain. 

In a state of confusion, he turned his gaze to that direction, to see what happened — the entire area collapsed from an explosion.

'What happened? How do they...have so much power...?'

"Time's up, old Deep Demon," a figure said, whilst behind him. 

'Huh...?' Gurez attempted to fathom it, but couldn't. His eyesight, was like he was in the air. 

But, after only a few seconds, he realized that he saw his own body from afar, while in the air. His head and his body were separated; he had been decapitated.

"No, there's probably more. Anyways, get Sors to finish them off. I'm done for today," another figure answered, in an arrogant tone.

The other figure nodded in agreement before they both separated. "Yo, Sors, you heard him, yeah?"

Sors emerged from the shadows, whilst looking emotionless. He had black medium hair, with red piercing eyes; "Yes, I heard him."

The figure in front gave out a gentle smirk, before it faded, "Well, I'm going to go hang out with that guy, so you finish off the work here."

As he heard this, Sors closed his eyes, in annoyance, but tried to hide it. "Alright."

Quickly, the figure disappeared into thin air, but Sors wasn't mentally affected by it — he could also do that if needed.

Turning his gaze onto the destruction of the Deep Ones, he wondered to himself; 'Why are we doing this...?'

But, this thought vanquished from his mind — they were doing it for money, and honor. There is no other reason.

Sors gave out a large sigh, as his body prepared itself for the worst. With his immense speed, one by one, he dashed throughout the entire region, decapitating, and stabbing everyone in his way. 

The blood of the Deep Ones was evident on his face, but, he did not think about it, not once. He was built for killing — a puppet that only served the Darkened Crest. But, this killing spree was short lived, as he turned his eyes.

He saw a deformed reflection on himself, with a tinted shiny glow to it. Sors's eyes froze upon realization; 'That's...a blade...'

He quickly crouched down, almost instantly, narrowly ducking the slice. However, this attacker was not done yet, no where near done. He dashed forward, hoping to at-least injure Sors, for his heinous activities.

Suddenly, his blade, which was meant to pierce Sors's stomach, halted. The attacker looked down, to see what had happened.

Sors kept a tight grip on the handle, to prevent himself from getting slashed. He gasped intensely, attempting to inhale as much oxygen as he could. 

"That was a close call, wasn't it? Deep Demon..."

The man, who appeared to have massive muscles, and a presence that screamed with pride, "Deep...Demon? I am...a Warrior of the Deep!" He yelled out, enraged.

Sors smirked and began to laugh upon hearing the man's statement. "Deep Demon? Deep One? Deep Warrior? Those titles mean nothing because all of you will be lost in history!" He yelled out, charging at the warrior, his blade in his hand.

The Warrior prepared himself for the incoming attack, and parried. Sors jumped into the air, and lashed out with a roundhouse kick. His opponent gave out a spit of blood but was still unaffected by it.

Then, Sors gave out a left jab, however, it was simply a feint, as he sent out an axe kick, striking the warrior's jaw. 

But, the warrior grabbed his foot and drove his fist right into Sors's solar plexus. He coughed out blood upon impact, with his ribs slightly torn.

The Warrior was not done, as he delivered out a right jab, and connected it with a left jab, and ultimately, an uppercut, before tightening his grip, and throwing Sors into a nearby wooden house.

The entire house was blown up, as parts of Sors's body was visible from the debris. "Damn...this guy is powerful," Sors commented, in a painful, and whispering tone, "how did the other assassins kill the other warriors so easily?"

The Warrior overheard this, and, with pride, gave him information; "I am Bjornist, the Chief of the Deep Warriors. I am much stronger than everyone else."

Sors managed to get out of the debris, whilst listening to what Bjornist had to say. "Well, you're pretty tough, eh? But, your subordinates, your warriors, they were weak."

Bjornist looked down, as if he was disappointed, but, his eye sight felt pure, as if there was still a chance; "Then, I'll kill all of you to avenge the fallen."

Then took out the weapon that he has kept this entire time — his axe, Triton, and it wasn't a normal one, it had a rune on it. 

Sors charged at him with full force, using his katana as a defense mechanism, however, that defense was instantly shattered when Bjornist used Triton to slice Sors's hand right off.

He grunted in pain, trying to get out of his reach, but, his skull shattered when Bjornist delivered his conquering fist into his head, right into the ground, which erupted upon impact.

Sors lay there, his eyes squinting, his lungs constantly taking in air, but most importantly, he was trying to live. He had underestimated Bjornist, as a fighter.

Bjornist gave out a sigh, before turning his gaze on the bloody corpse. His eyes weren't full of honor or bravery anymore, but disappointment. This organization had trained youngsters, to do the work for them. 

"I've killed more than 15 of your men, and I won't stop until all of them die," Bjornist stated, "you will die from your injuries, but, since you are a mere child, who does not deserve pain, I will end your life."

He then lifted Triton, and with a count from one to three, he sliced Sors in two. A surge of blood came out of him, which landed on Bjornist's face. 

"Rest in peace, child. I hope that Undalith forgives you, as you do not deserve this fate."